Motivating History
KeithMoxey
Under historicism, which entailed the historical study of
ancient and modern art as a new paradigm of historical
experience, art history handed over lock, stock, and
barrel its legitimacy as a medium for aesthetic, philosophical or hermeneutic reflection.-Hans RobertJauss'
Fortunatelywe are presently rather far removed from the
period of naive scientificity during which subjectivitywas
considered to be the domain of illusion and objective
knowledge to be the sole expression of truth. We know
now that our subjectivityis not an illusion to be overcome,
but that it is another part of reality, no less important than
any other part.-Josue Harari and David Bell2
The other day I went searching for a book in Avery Library,
the art libraryof Columbia University. This time, instead of
looking at the shelves as mere supports for the volumes that
contained the information I sought, I became aware that
what I was looking at was the architecture (or archaeology) of
a particular field of scholarly activity, namely the study of
Northern Renaissance art. I was struck, in other words, by
the physical presence of an aspect of our discipline's cultural
imaginary.
The organization of the volumes arranged on the shelves, I
realized, was at least as important as the information contained in the weighty tomes they supported. Rather than the
disturbing chaos that characterized the arrangement of
books in Borges's tale "The Libraryof Babel," these books in
Avery were organized according to an established pattern.
But just what was the system behind their organization?Was
it any more comprehensible than that which inspired Borges's equally famous account of an ancient Chinese encyclopedia cited by Michel Foucault?3How had "Northern Renaissance art"come into being? How did this particularcategory
or concept become a topic worthy of scholarly interest?Who
or what had determined that there should be more books on
certain artists rather than on others? What likes and dislikes
do these choices betray?What values went into forming the
configuration of books assembled there, and more important, what is it that continues to keep them in place?
The answer,of course, is the canon-that most naturalized
of all art-historical assumptions. Certain artists and certain
works of art that have received the sanction of tradition are
unquestioningly regarded as appropriate material for arthistorical study. Course syllabi are still arranged around
artists who are deemed major figures, and the vast majority
of publications is dedicated to a consideration of a select
number of well-knownworks. Questions regarding the purpose and function of privileging certain artists and works in
this way are rarely raised. Others concerning the esteem in
which the canon is held are not regarded as belonging to art
history but rather to aesthetics, a branch of philosophy, or to
the criticism of contemporary art. For the most part, art
history's disciplinary work is carried on as if there were no
need to articulate the social function it is supposed to serve.
The discipline's promotion and support of the canon are all
too often still taken for granted. It is as if a consensus had
been arrived at sometime in the past so that there is no
further need for discussion. The library shelves are the
physical manifestationsof this consensus, the embodiment of
an established cultural practice.
In asking for a discussion of the purpose of art history's
dedication to the canon, I hope not to be misunderstood.
This is not a call for a valuation of works of art, not a call for a
more explicit ranking of canonical works, not a request that
students be indoctrinated as to which artist is "better"than
another. The problem, it seems to me, is that somehow the
notion of "quality," that most subjective of judgments, is
thought to be self-evident and unquestionable. While some
of us may dwell affectionately and pleasurably on certain
predictable canonical artists and describe their works in
glowing terms, there is usually no attempt to argue, and
perhaps even think about, why one artist should be considered more worthy of study than another or why certain
moments and places in the history of artistic production
should be privileged above others. As it stands now, the
history of art could be described as an unacknowledged
paean of praise addressed to the canon, and the intensity of
this devotion can, perhaps, be measured by the sobriety of
our professorial demeanor as we accomplish this task.
The conviction underlying these attitudes, which continue
to be widespread, if not even prevalent in art historytoday, is
the commitment to tradition. The canon of artists and works
discussed in art-history courses are those which were once
found meritorious by previous generations of scholars responding to historical situationsvery different from those we
currently occupy. Like Mount Everest, the works, the artists,
and even the methodologies for interpreting them are
simply there, and like mountain climbers, it is our mandate
as art historians to climb their peaks and sing their praises to
future generations. In doing so, we are often unwittingly
engaged in the unthinking reproductionof culture:reproducing knowledge, but not necessarily producing it. As a consequence, the discipline as a whole becomes a powerful
conservativeforce in a rapidly changing society.
The way to start speculating about how we came to this
disciplinarymoment might be to engage in a cultural history
of the discipline, an examination of the classed, gendered,
and ethnic values that have marked its development. Such a
task, however, is impossible in the space availableto me here.
What follows is rather a discrete and limited examination of
what could be called the founding moment of the canon of
Northern Renaissance art, the historical point where a
MOTIVATING
HISTORY
393
discursive practice first formed around works of art produced in Northern Europe in the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries. In other words, this is not a historiographic
account of the origins and development of the appreciation
of Northern Renaissance art so much as an analysis of the
political, religious, and personal sentiments that prompted
that appreciation to take place. The analysis is meant to be
representative-the Northern Renaissance is used here as a
test case. A similar study might also be undertaken for what
are considered the canonical artists and works of other times
and places.
The ideas that led to the historical study of the Northern
Renaissance at the end of the eighteenth century will be
contrasted with those that inform the way in which the period
was studied at the middle of the twentieth century, specifically in the work of ErwinPanofsky.The point of the contrast
is to analyze the role of the practice of history in these two
very different historiographic moments. How had the function of history changed in the period that separates the late
eighteenth and mid-twentieth centuries? Is there anything
we can learn from the different ways in which history was
approached, something that might enable us to rethink the
function of history in our own time?
Until the end of the eighteenth century, the discipline of
art history, founded by Vasari, remained focused on the
humanist traditions of the Italian Renaissance as they were
codified in the art academies of the seventeenth century. Not
only were the styles and artistic techniques of the great
masters of the Florentine and Venetian schools regarded as
the models to which all artists should aspire, but the
academies also established a hierarchy of genres, according
to which history painting-meaning the painting of religious
and secular subject matter depicting lofty themes taken from
Christian belief and Greco-Roman mythology and history-was ranked at the top, and mere exercises in mimesis, such as
landscape and still life, were located at the bottom. Owing to
the dominance of the humanist tradition among the educated elite, there was little significant difference among the
artistic aspirations of the schools of artistic production that
arose in the regions that were later to become the nationstates of Europe. It was only in the eighteenth century that
the dominance of the academy was first challenged by
Winckelmann, who proposed that the true source of beauty
was to be found in the art of ancient Greece. Later, in the
context of the nationalism engendered by the European wars
that followed the French Revolution, arguments began to be
fielded regarding the aesthetic interest of works of art
produced at times and places other than ancient Greece and
Renaissance Italy.
The first mention of Northern Renaissance painting as a
location for the discussion of artistic issues that had hitherto
been associated only with Italy and Greece is found in the
curious and delightful writings of the short-lived young
author, Wilhelm Heinrich Wackenroder.4 In his fictional
Michael Holly was kind enough to make drafts of this paper part of her
summertime reading. I am also grateful to Janet Wolff for reading the
penultimate version.
1. Hans RobertJauss, "Historyof Art and PragmaticHistory," in Towards
an Aestheticof Reception,trans.Timothy Bahti, intro. Paul de Man, Minneapolis, 1982, 51.
2. Josue Harari and David Bell, introduction to Michel Serres, Hermes:
b) embalmed, c) tame, d) sucking pigs, e) sirens, f) fabulous, g) straydogs, h)
included in the present classification,i) frenzied, j) innumerable, k) drawn
with a very fine camelhair brush, 1)et cetera,m) havingjust broken the water
pitcher, n) that from a long way off look like flies."
4. For a fuller sketch of the appreciation of early Netherlandish art in the
Literature, Science, Philosophy, ed. J. Harari and D. Bell, Baltimore, 1992, xII.
3. M. Foucault, The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences,
New York, 1973, xv: "animalsare divided into: a) belonging to the Emperor,
narrative Confessionsfrom the Heart of an Art-Loving Friar of
1797, Wackenrodermade a compelling case for the relativity
of artistic appeal. In doing so, he boldly challenged the
accepted canon of his day, according to which Italian art of
the Renaissance and the Greek art of antiquity were regarded as possessing greater merit than art produced at any
other place and time:
Stupid people cannot comprehend that there are antipodes on our globe and that they are themselves antipodes.
They alwaysconceive of the place where they are standing
as the gravitational center of the universe,-and their
minds lack the wings to fly around the entire earth and
surveywith one glance the integrated totality.
And, similarly, they regard their own emotion as the
center of everything beautiful in art and they deliver the
final judgment concerning everything as if from the
tribunal, without considering that no one has appointed
them judges and that those who are condemned by them
could just as well set themselves up to the same end.
Why do you not condemn the American Indian, that he
speaks Indian and not our language?And yet you want to condemn the Middle Ages, that it
did not build such temples as did Greece?5
Wackenroder's appreciation for the art of the Northern
Renaissance is paraded in a chapter dedicated to the praise
of the work of Albrecht Diirer. His melodramatic account
makes clear the nationalistic and religious values that underlie his concern to insert this artist into the canon. Diirer is
presented asjust as good an artist as those who constitute the
canon because of the qualityof his inner spirit, an inner spirit
that embodies the essence of the German nation:
When Albrecht was wielding the paintbrush, the German
was at that time still a unique and an excellent characterof
firm constancy in the arena of our continent; and this
serious, upright and powerful nature of the German is
imprinted in his pictures accurately and clearly, not only
in the facial structureand the whole external appearance
but also in the inner spirit. This firmly determined
German character and German art as well have disappeared in our times. .. . and the student of art is taught
how he should imitate the expressiveness of Raphael and
the colors of the Venetian School and the realism of the
Dutch and the enchanting highlights of Correggio, all
simultaneously, and should in this way arrive at the
18th and 19th centuries, see F. Haskell, Rediscoveries in Art: Some Aspects of
Taste, Fashion, and Collecting in England and France, Ithaca, N.Y., 1976; and S.
Sulzberger, La Rihabilitation desprimitifsflamands, 1802-1867, Brussels, 1961.
5. W. H. Wackenroder, Wilhelm Heinrich Wackenroder's Confessions and
Fantasies,trans. M. H. Schubert, UniversityPark,Pa., 1970, 109-10.
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perfection which surpasses all.-O, wretched sophistry!
O, blind belief of this age that one could combine every
type of beauty and every excellence of all the great
painters of the earth and, through the scrutinizing of all
and the begging of their numerous great gifts, could unite
the spirit of all in oneself and transcend them all!6
The encomium ends with a description of a dream in
which the friarfalls asleep in an art gallery and has a vision in
which the artists come alive before their paintings and
discuss their merits. Among those that appear in this way are
the shades of Raphael and Dfirer whom the friar observes
holding hands as they gaze in "friendly tranquillity"and
mutual admiration at the achievements of one another's
labors. By pairing Raphael and Duirerin this way, Wackenroder explicitly claims a new status for German painting of
the Renaissance.
Wackenroder'sargument concerning the relativityof artistic competence seems to depend upon the principle of
historicism which had been introduced into the philosophy
of history by Johann Gottfried von Herder a few years
earlier.7Herder had argued that there could be no objectivity in the writing of history because the historian was himself
part of the historical process. In this view, there are no
transhistorical absolutes, for all judgments are contingent
upon the time and place in which they are produced.
Wackenroder's artistic relativism, his capacity to claim that
Direr was the equal of Raphael, finds its basis in Herder's
emphasis on the singularity of the historical moment. For
Wackenroder, the unique quality of a historical period, that
which makes it unlike anything that preceded or followed it,
can be put in the service of a national cause. The nationalism
of the late eighteenth century, a moment when Germany
sought to free itself from the political and cultural domination of France, found in history a means by which its case
might be articulatedand advanced.
With its emphasis on the spiritualityof art and its capacity
to embody and transmitreligious emotion, together with the
conviction that these characteristicswere to be found in the
art of places and times that had not yet been hallowed by
tradition, Wackenroder's book exemplified the romantic
attitude toward the question of artistic quality. Much the
same tone is found in the influential criticism of the writer
Friedrich Schlegel, who, during a stay in Paris between 1802
and 1804, was deeply affected by his experience of the
Mus&e Napolkon. It was in the Louvre that Napoleon's
artistic plunder, taken from all over Europe, was placed on
view as an unprecedented display of his imperial power.8
Although Schlegel shared the admiration for Italian art
typical of the taste of the day, he preferred the early painters
6. Ibid., 115.
7. See G. Iggers, TheGermanConception
of History:TheNationalTraditionof
HistoricalThoughtfromHerderto thePresent,Middletown,Conn., 1968, 34-38.
The concept of historicismis subject to a varietyof different definitions. See,
e.g., M. Mandelbaum,History,Man, and Reason:A Studyin NineteenthCentury
Thought,Baltimore, 1971. For an interesting attempt to dissolve the distinction between historicism and history by arguing that all histories share the
kind of system-building quality usually attributed to historicist histories on
the basis that they are all structured according to rhetorical tropes, see H.
White, "Historicism,History, and the Figurative Imagination," Historyand
Theory,xiv, 1975, Beiheft 14, 48-67.
of the fourteenth century because to his eyes their work
exuded a greater spirituality. It was his admiration for the
religious feeling of old-master painting that allowed him to
extend his appreciation to what he called "old German"
painting of the Renaissance, by which he meant not only
German but also Netherlandish painting of this period.9
Schlegel's advocacy of the virtues of "old German" painting
soon drew the attention of the wealthy sons of a German
businessman, Sulpiz and Melchior Boisser&e,who went to
Paris to visit him.'0 After staying at his house as paying
guests, they traveled with Schlegel through northern France
and the southern Netherlands, visiting Gothic cathedrals
before returning to their native Cologne. In the account
Schlegel wrote of thisjourney, he identified the Gothic as the
German style of the Middle Ages, extolling its beauties as a
manifestation of the age of faith.
Schlegel's views were symptomatic of a significant change
of taste, one that insured that his reevaluation of German art
of the Renaissancewould be underwrittenby capital so as to
be realized in the formation of collections and museums. On
their return to Cologne, the Boisseree brothers began avidly
collecting German and Netherlandish art. Their passion was
aided by political circumstances, for the Napoleonic dispossession of the properties of the Catholic Church, enforced
throughout occupied Germany as well as France, meant that
medieval and Renaissance altarpieces that had been part of
the neglected fabricof church interiors suddenly entered the
marketplace in large numbers. The Boisser~es soon assembled the largest and most important collection of paintings of this period, including some of what are today the
most admired works of Stefan Lochner, Rogier van der
Weyden, and Hans Memling. After having been made
available to the Prussian crown, which was in the process of
establishing what would eventually become the national
museum in Berlin, this collection was eventually bought by
the king of Bavariain 1827, thus finding an alternativeroute
to the fulfillment of Schlegel's call for a national museum of
"old German"painting."
Both Wackenroder and Schlegel had used history as a
means of realizing their critical appreciation of an art that
was emotionally laden with religious values and that could be
claimed as a glorious manifestation of the German national
spirit. In doing so, they laid the foundation for the study of
what came to be called Northern Renaissance art. In what
follows, I want to analyze the culmination of the discursive
practice they inaugurated. I want to compare, that is, the
values that inform their writing with those of the recent
art-historical past. What distinguishes their approach to
history from the one that still characterizes our own times?
8. See H. Eichner,FriedrichSchlegel,New York, 1970, 98.
9. For Schlegel's views on art, see F. Schlegel, KritischeFriedrichSchlegel
Ausgabe,35 vols., ed. E. Behler with J. J. Austett and H. Eichner, Munich,
Kunst,1959.
1958-81, Iv,AnsichtenundIdeenvon derchristlichen
10. For a history of the Boisseree brothers and their collection, see E.
Firmenich-Richartz,Die BriiderBoisseree:Sulpiz und MelchiorBoisserdeals
derRomantik,Jena, 1916.
Kunstsammler.
Ein Beitragzur Geschichte
11. Sulzberger(as in n. 4), 57.
MOTIVATING
HISTORY
395
What kinds of stories do we tell today and what motivates
them?
The other and contrasting end of this analysis of the
character of the discourse on Northern Renaissance art is
located in what is usually regarded as its apogee, namely the
work of Erwin Panofsky. Panofsky, a German art historian
who was deprived of his teaching position by the National
Socialists in 1933, settled permanently in the United States
in the following year. He is the author of two books that have
decisively shaped the study of Northern Renaissance art in
our time. These are TheLifeandArt ofAlbrechtD~irerof 1943
and EarlyNetherlandishPainting, which appeared in 1953.12
Rather than using history in the service of religious, emotional, and explicitly nationalistic goals, Panofskyappears to
have no other ambition than to provide the reader with a
wealth of information about the subjects under discussion.
Both his texts are detailed and learned accounts of the
available historical evidence, which is pursued with a relentless "objectivity,"with a positivistic desire to evaluate and
supersede the nature and quality of the information provided by earlier historians. The introductions to both volumes, however, "betrayrather than parade," their ideological agenda.'
In the introduction to the Dfirer book, Panofsky declares
that the German contribution to art history has yet to be
acknowledged. He proposes that the artistic accomplishments of Dfirer, whom he defines as a representative of the
German national spirit, make him worthy of comparison with
the great artists of the Italian Renaissance. While there is an
interesting continuity to be traced between the nationalism
of Wackenroder and Schlegel and that of Panofsky, the
historiographic differences in the way they advance their
claims are more significant than their similarities.
The period of 150 years or so that separates the texts of
these authors could be said to have witnessed the triumph of
history. The historicist principle enunciated by Herder had
been developed in the course of the nineteenth century into
something resembling a science. The recognition that time is
a decisive factor affecting our understanding of the world
transformed the shape of knowledge. In addition, the influence of the achievements of the physical sciences during the
same period pushed historical studies into an ever-increasing empiricism. The transformationin the function of history
between these two historical moments seems to depend
above all else on the elimination of the subjectivity of the
historian. Whereas Wackenroder and Schlegel fully articulated the fact that their interest in history depended upon
their religious and nationalist beliefs, in Panofsky'scase the
historian's agenda is far less explicit.
The nationalism of the introduction to the Dfirer book, for
example, appears paradoxical in light of the way in which the
German government had deprived him of his teaching
position. What was at stake in inserting Dfirer into the
Renaissance canon populated by Italian artists was much
more complicated than an assertion of pride in national
identity. As I have argued elsewhere, Panofsky's view of
Dfirer as torn between the principles of reason and unreason, for which he used the emblem of Dfirer's engraving
MelencoliaI, has more to do with the political situation of
Germany in his own time, with a defense of humanism in the
context of National Socialism, than it does with the cultural
conditions of sixteenth-century Nuremberg.14 The point I
wish to make is that Panofsky'sengagement with politics was
not permitted to register as part of the conscious objectives
of his historical biography of Dfirer. Political and emotional
beliefs were repressed in favor of "disinterestedness."
The same "objectivist"attitude is found in the introduction to EarlyNetherlandishPainting. Here, Panofsky argues
that Netherlandish naturalism, the characteristic quality of
this school of painting, is actually indebted to the invention
of one-point perspective, an artistic achievement of Italian
art of the same period. The canonical status of Netherlandish art is thus underwrittenby its incorporation of one of the
pictorial devices that serve to distinguish Italian art. Instead
of appealing to the notion of artistic relativity on which
Wackenroder and Schlegel had based their claim for the
interest of "old German" painting, Panofsky attempts to
include Netherlandish art under the umbrella of the traditional taste for the Italian Renaissance. If Italian painting is
part of the canon because of its development of mimetic
techniques, such as perspective, that enabled it to achieve
more convincing kinds of illusionism, thereby heightening
the naturalismfor which it had been valued, then Netherlandish painting gains status by sharing these characteristics.
This is, in other words, a kind of canonization by association.15Similarly,Panofsky'sanalysis of the complex symbolism of Netherlandish painting, which is discussed at length in
the text, could be said to represent an attempt to find an
equivalent for the complicated religious and secular allegories that are a feature of Italian art of this period. Once again,
the artistic merit attached to early Netherlandish art would
result not from its pictorial autonomy, not from the principle
of artistic relativity, but from its similarity to the southern
tradition.
What led to the suppression of the authorial agenda that
seems to distinguishPanofsky'streatmentof Northern Renaissance art from that of Wackenroderand Schlegel? Why is the
authorial voice so much more removed and abstract?What
12. E. Panofsky, The Life and Art ofAlbrecht Durer, 2 vols., Princeton, N.J.,
1943; and idem, Early Netherlandish Painting, 2 vols., Cambridge, Mass.,
1953.
13. E. Panofsky, "The History of Art as a Humanistic Discipline" (1940), in
Meaning and the Visual Arts, Garden City, N.Y., 1955, 1-25. The phrase (14)
occurs as part of the definition of what Panofsky calls the "iconological"
method of interpretation whose purpose is to uncover the cultural attitudes
encoded in the "content" of the work of art.
14. See "Panofsky's Melancolia," in K. Moxey, The Practice of Theory:
Poststructuralism, Cultural Politics, and Art History, Ithaca, N.Y./London, 1994,
65-78.
15. I have analyzed the introduction to Early Netherlandish Painting in
"Perspective, Panofsky, and the Philosophy of History," New Literary History,
forthcoming. Panofsky's text also contains expressions of nationalist views.
Some of them were noted by Katherine Crawford Luber in "Nationalism and
Panofsky: Albrecht Diirer, Italy, and Early Netherlandish Painting," a talk
delivered at the College Art Association meeting in New York, 1994.
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led to the substitution of a colorless objectivityfor a passionately argued subjectivity?A full answer to these questions
would necessitate a history of the idea of history in the
nineteenth and twentieth centuries and would have much to
do with the institutionalization of the discipline and the
professionalization of its practitioners. It is immediately
apparent, however, that history served a very different
function for Wackenroder and Schlegel than it did for
Panofsky. Whereas in the earlier case history was part of a
larger cultural rhetoric, in its later incarnation it seems to be
pursued as if it could be an end in itself.
Panofsky'sreticence about the larger cultural function of
history, his reluctance to articulatethe concerns that animate
his scholarly work, as well as his conception of history as a
positivistic discipline, finds its theoretical justification in
"The History of Art as a Humanistic Discipline" of 1955. In
this reflective essay, Panofsky suggests that the historian is
involved in two very different types of activity.In responding
to the work of art (which is defined as a "man-made object
demanding to be experienced aesthetically"),the art historian must both "re-create"the work by attempting to intuit
the artistic "intentions" that went into its creation and then
submit it to archaeological investigation. The relation between "aesthetic re-creation" and "archaeologicalinvestigation" is called an "organic"one:
It is not true that the art historian first constitutes his
object by means of re-creative synthesis and then begins
his archaeological investigation-as though first buying a
ticket and then boarding a train. In reality the two
processes do not succeed each other, they interpenetrate;
not only does the re-creative synthesis serve as a basis for
the archaeological investigation, the archaeological investigation in turn serves as a basis for the re-creative
process; both mutually qualifyand rectify one another.16
The aesthetic re-creation of the work is deemed to depend
"not only on the natural sensitivityand visual training of the
spectator, but also on his cultural equipment."17The difference between a naive beholder and an art historian is the fact
that the latter is awareof his cultural predispositions; that is,
he is awareof the contemporary perspective he brings to the
work of interpretation as a consequence of belonging to a
culture different from the one under investigation, while the
naive beholder is not. The point of the historian's awareness
of his own culturalvalues is not to acknowledge them as part
of the historical narrativethat will result as a consequence of
his engagement with the past, not to understand that
whatever he comes up with will inevitablybe filtered through
the peculiar configuration of his own subjectivity,but rather
16. Panofsky (as in n. 13), 16.
17. Ibid.
18. Ibid., 17-18.
19. Ibid., 18, n. 13.
20. See E. Panofsky, "Iconography and Iconology: An Introduction to the
Study of Renaissance Art" (1939), in Meaning in the Visual Arts, Garden City,
N.Y., 1955, 26-54. For comment and criticism of this method of interpretation, see E. Kaemmerling, Ikonographie und Ikonologie: Theorien, Entwicklung,
Probleme, Cologne, 1979; J. Bonnet, ed., Erwin Panofsky: Cahierspour un temps,
Paris, 1983; M. Podro, The Critical Historians ofArt, New Haven, 1982; M. A.
Holly, Panofsky and the Foundations of Art History, Ithaca, N.Y., 1984; eadem,
to suppress or eliminate all aspects of his approach to the
study of the past that might result from his participation in
the historical horizon to which he belongs. It is by means of
his knowledge of the past that the historian is to control, if
not to extirpate altogether, the affective and valuational
baggage he brought to the enterprise in the first place. The
goal is to be as "objective"as possible.
He tries, therefore, to make adjustments by learning as
much as he possibly can about the circumstances under
which the objects of his studies were created. Not only will
he collect and verify all the available information as to
medium, condition, age, authorship, destination, etc., but
he will also compare the work with others of its class, and
will examine such writings as reflect the aesthetic standards of its country and age, in order to achieve a more
"objective" appraisal of its quality. .. . But when he does
all this, his aesthetic perception as such will change
accordingly, and will more and more adapt itself to the
original "intention" of the works. Thus what the art
historian, as opposed to the "naive"art lover, does, is not
to erect a rational superstructureon an irrationalfoundation, but to develop his re-creative experiences so as to
conform with the results of his archaeological research,
while continually checking the results of his archaeological research against the evidence of his re-creativeexperiences.18
Because of the theoretical elimination of the subjectivityof
the historian, the approach to interpretation outlined above
has no way of dealing with issues of artistic merit. This
method could, for example, be applied to the interpretation
of any work of art regardless of its "quality."What is missing
is some way of articulatingwhy certain works matter to the
interpreter and others do not. The result is an art history
absorbed by a positivisticobsession with information.
Panofsky was, of course, fully aware that the discipline
could not exist without a means of privileging some works
above others. His solution was to claim that "greatness" of
works of art was self-evident and artistic achievement would
disclose itself to the historian in the course of his investigation:
But when a "masterpiece" is compared and connected
with as many "less important"works of art as turn out, in
the course of the investigation, to be comparable and
connectable with it, the originality of the invention, the
superiority of its composition and technique, and whatever other features make it "great," will automatically
become evident-not in spite but because of the fact that
Iconografia e Iconologia, Milan, 1992; K. Moxey, "Panofsky's Concept of
'Iconology' and the Problem of Interpretation in the History of Art," New
Literary History, xvII, 1985-86, 265-74; S. Ferretti, Cassirer, Panofsky, and
Warburg: Symbol, Art, and History, trans. R. Pierce, New Haven, 1989; G.
Didi-Huberman, Devant l'image, Paris, 1990; and B. Cassidy, ed., Iconography
at the Crossroads,Princeton, N.J., 1993.
21. B. Herrnstein Smith, "The Exile of Evaluation," in Contingencies of
Value: Alternative Perspectivesfor Critical Theory, Cambridge, Mass., 1988, 18.
It is significant that the book Smith identifies as the most extreme version of
the antievaluationist stance, Northrop Frye's Anatomy of Criticism, was, like
MOTIVATING
the whole group of materials has been subjected to one
and the same method of analysis and interpretation.19
Panofsky'sbanishment of subjectivityin favor of positivistic objectivity-the sacrificeof culturaljudgment in favorof a
re-creation of the artistic "intentions" of the past, "intentions" which were to be validated by "archaeologicalinvestigation"-proved deeply influential. So far, contemporary
art history has concerned itself only with the evaluation and
criticism of his methodological concepts of "iconography"
and "iconology," which for so long dominated scholarly
activityin our discipline.20The other side of the coin, the fact
that this subtle and effective method of historical interpretation succeeded because it obliterated questions related to the
subjectivity of the historian, has yet to be recognized and
explored.
Panofsky'sbias against the insertion of the concerns of the
present into narrativesabout the past appears to be part of a
historical tendency that has also affected literary studies in
the twentieth century. BarbaraHerrnstein Smith has pointed
out that literary critics have also been more concerned with
the development of theories of interpretation than with
articulating the rationale that occasions their deployment.
She argues that:
while professors of literature have sought to claim for
their activities the rigor, objectivity,cognitive substantiality, and progress associated with science and the empirical
disciplines, they have also attempted to remain faithful to
the essentiallyconservativeand didacticmission of humanistic studies: to honor and preserve the culture's traditionally esteemed objects-in this case, its canonized texts-and to illuminate and transmit the traditional cultural
values presumably embodied in them.21
HISTORY
397
arguably the other most influential art historian of this
century. It is because art historians are the custodians of the
canon, Gombrich argues, that they can be distinguished
from social scientists, who approach works of art as part of
the material of culture. In a lecture entitled "ArtHistory and
the Social Sciences" of 1973, Gombrich took it upon himself
to defend art history's preoccupation with a canon of works
that had been recognized as "great" against those who
advocated the study of works of art as cultural artifacts. He
argued that whereas the study of historical circumstance
would significantly affect our appreciation of the art of the
past, it was no substitute for the connoisseur's capacity to
discern "quality."For Gombrich, the canon
offers points of reference, standards of excellence which
we cannot level down without losing direction. Which
particular peaks, or which individual achievements we
select for this role may be a matter of choice, but we could
not make such a choice if there really were no peaks but
only shifting dunes.... the values of the canon are too
deeply embedded in the totality of our civilization for
them to be discussed in isolation .... Our attitude to the
peaks of art can be conveyed through the way we speak
about them, perhaps through our very reluctance to spoil
the experience with too much talk. What we call civilization may be interpreted as a web of value judgements
which are implicit rather than explicit.22
Panofsky'srelegation of the question of artistic excellence
to the realm of the self-evident effectively wove it into the
fabric of tradition. One can only tell what is self-evident by
consulting what other human beings have considered artistically exceptional in the past. By reading the past we can infer
what is appropriate to the present, thus avoiding the necessity of projecting contemporaryjudgment into the process.
The price of interpretive objectivity is the abdication of
responsibility for finding in history a means of articulating
the cultural dilemmas of the present. The principle of
self-evidence is a profoundly conservative one, dedicated to
the support of the status quo and ideally suited to the task of
providing art historywith "scientific"respectability.
Panofsky's equation of canonical value with traditional
value was espoused and supported by Ernst Gombrich,
What was it that led art historians such as Panofsky and
Gombrich to dismiss any discussion of the cultural qualities
of exceptional works of art on the basis that they were
self-evident? What supported their belief that artistic merit
was universallydiscernible?The unstated assumption underlying their position regarding what constitutes the canonical
status of a work of art would appear to be a universalist
theory of aesthetics.
According to the theory of aesthetics formulated by Immanuel Kant in the late eighteenth century, certain works of
art had the capacity to provoke a universal recognition of
their extraordinary quality.23The existence of the beautiful
was thus something located in the human response to objects
rather than in the objects themselves. By making the capacity
to recognize artistic quality part of the definition of "human
nature," Kant'stheory offered a basis for the identification of
canonical status with the judgment of tradition. Both Panofsky and Gombrich belong to the humanist tradition of which
Kant's theory is a part. That is, they share the faith that
"human nature" affords human beings an adequate epistemological foundation on which to understand both the world
Early Netherlandish Painting, published in the 1950s. Smith's book is one of
several publications dealing with the question of the canon in literary studies
(it is telling that there should be no art-historical equivalent). For others, see
R. van Hallberg, ed., "Canons," a special issue of Critical Inquiry, x, no. 1,
1983, which included contributions by B. Herrnstein Smith et al.; F.
Kermode, Forms ofAttention, Chicago, 1985; J. Tompkins, Sensational Designs:
The Cultural Work of American Fiction, 1790-1860,
New York, 1985; R.
Scholes, "Aiming a Canon at the Curriculum," Salmagundi, LXXII, 1986,
101-17, with responses by E. D. Hirsch et al.; C. Altieri, Canons and
Consequences:Reflections on the Ethical Force of Imaginative Ideals, Evanston, Ill.,
1990; J. Goran, The Making of the Modern Canon: Genesis and Crisis of a Literary
Idea, Atlantic Highlands, N.J., 1991; P. Lauter, Canons in Contexts, New York,
1991; H. L. Gates, Jr., Loose Canons: Notes on the Culture Wars, New York,
1992; and J. Guillory, Cultural Capital: The Problem of Literary Canon
Formation, Chicago, 1993.
22. E. Gombrich, Art History and the Social Sciences: The Romanes Lecturefor
1973, Oxford, 1975, 54. Silence was also suggested by Frye as the means by
which a critic might validate the equation of the canon with tradition; see
Smith (as in n. 21), 24. For a recent defense of the humanist strategy of
silencing discussion of the quality of literary texts (or works of art) in favor of
accepting the verdict of tradition, see Peter Brooks, "Aesthetics and Ideology: What Happened to Poetics?" Critical Inquiry, xx, 1994, 509-23.
23. I. Kant, Critique ofAestheticJudgement, trans. J. Meredith, Oxford, 1952.
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and "man's" place within it. It is for this reason that it is
possible for them to assert that the artistic quality of certain
cultural artifactsis "self-evident."
The humanist conception of human subjectivityas something stable, continuous, autonomous, and not liable to
modulation according to circumstancesof time and place has
undergone devastating criticism in our own time. Psychoanalysis, for example, has tended to emphasize the contingency of the subject.According to Jacques Lacan, the subject
is split on the acquisition of language into that which
represents the desires and drives of a preconscious condition
(the unconscious) and that which represents the codes and
conventions that govern social life (the symbolic).24On this
account, subjectivity is shifting and unstable, constantly
under revision as the relation between the unconscious and
the social is renegotiated in the light of the ever-changing
circumstancesof everydaylife. This view of the subjectclearly
militates against the concept of "human nature," against the
assumption that all human beings could ever react in the
same way towardanything, let alone worksof art. If we accept
the notion that human subjectivityis a construction whose
shape varies according to the cultural forces that determine
its identity, then it follows that human response to cultural
artifactswill vary according to the race, gender, class, sexual
orientation, and nationality of the individual. One of the
most powerful critiques of Kant's aesthetic theory has been
mounted by the Marxist sociologist Pierre Bourdieu, who
used the concept of class to show that the location of
individuals in the social hierarchy is crucial in determining
their response to works of art.25
Anthropologists, such as Johannes Fabian, and literary
critics, such as EdwardSaid, have also drawn attention to the
ideological agenda underlying humanist epistemologies.
They suggest that the conception of the human subject as
something stable and unchanging, something self-conscious
and capable of knowing both the world and itself, is a
dimension of Eurocentrism that characterized European
culture during the colonial period of the late eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries.26The age of empire saw a fusion of the
desire for knowledge with the worldwide expansion of
European power. The search for knowledge was backed by
epistemological assumptions that precluded cultural differences, so that in the European encounter with other peoples
it was alwaysEurope that was used as the canon by which to
judge the rest. The result was a subordination of other
cultures to a European conception of "civilization"and a
reduction of different ways of understanding the world to
what is known as "science."
These critics suggest that the ways in which individuals,
classes, and cultures invest objects with social value are so
different that such processes cannot be considered to belong
to the same category-that is, they cannot usefully be
grouped under the rubric of the aesthetic. If this is the case,
then the concept of aesthetics, one that is intimately associated with the humanist notion of an unchanging "human
nature," is emptied of its content.27 What becomes more
important than trying to reduce the rich variety of human
response to a single kind of experience is to articulate the
grounds on which these different responses attain the status
of discursivepractices.
Panofsky's attempt to naturalize the concept of artistic
quality and Gombrich's claim that quality is one of the
implicit value judgments that make up our civilizationwere
never completely convincing. Not only is the validity of such
positions questionable in the light of contemporary theory,
but they were also challenged within the historicalhorizon in
which they were enunciated. Among the most important
(and curiouslyneglected) attempts to insist on the role of the
present in the task of accounting for the past is Leo
Steinberg's remarkablyprescient essay "Objectivityand the
Shrinking Self' of 1969. By insisting that subjectivity mattered, Steinberg rebelled against the antiseptic objectivity,
the positivistic empiricism, of the art history of his day.
According to him, it is the way in which the art historian's
cultural outlook is modeled by the cultural circumstances of
his own time that determines the importance he ultimately
ascribes to the work of art under consideration. Mannerist
art, for example, which had long been despised because of
the way in which it had been assessed by the Italian art
academies of the seventeenth century, was rediscovered by
twentieth-century Expressionist artists and critics on the
basis of their own artistic preferences. In Steinberg's view,
there is no evading personal involvement. All historical
interpretation is necessarily colored by the beliefs of the
interpreter:
24. J. Lacan, "The Mirror Stage as Formative of the Function of the I" and
"The Agency of the Letter in the Unconscious, or Reason since Freud," in
Ecrits:A Selection, trans. A. Sheridan New York, 1977, 1-7, 146-78.
25. P. Bourdieu, Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgment of Taste,
London, 1986.
26. J. Fabian, Time and the Other: How Anthropology Makes its Object, New
York, 1983; E. Said, Orientalism, New York, 1979; and idem, Culture and
Imperialism, New York, 1993.
27. See Tony Bennett, "Really Useless Knowledge: A Political Critique of
Aesthetics," Literature and History, xIII, 1987, 38-57.
28. L. Steinberg, "Objectivity and the Shrinking Self," Daedalus, xcviII,
Summer 1969, 824-36, esp. 836. Svetlana Alpers also drew attention to the
importance of the present in the interpretation of the past in "Is Art
History?" Daedalus, cvi 1977, 1-13. Describing the work of T. J. Clark, M.
Fried, L. Steinberg, and M. Baxandall, she claimed that they emphasized the
way in which the artistic merit discovered in works of art by critics in the past
needs to be evaluated in the context of the present. In doing so, these authors
implied that the canon inherited from tradition was not absolute and that it
was subject to revision at the hands of succeeding generations. Indeed, in a
remarkable passage Alpers (6) suggested that knowledge was not to be found
but rather it had to be made: "art historians all too often see themselves as
It is naive to imagine that you avoid the risk of projection
merely by not interpreting. In desisting from interpretation, you do not cease to project. You merely project more
unwittingly. There is apparently no escape from oneself
and little safety in closing art history off against the
contemporary imagination.28
It was not until the advent of feminism, however, that the
equation of the art-historicalcanon with tradition received a
lasting challenge. More than any other historian or critic, it
MOTIVATING
HISTORY
399
Rather than attempt to insert women into a canon that had
been constructed on the basis of their exclusion, subsequent
feminist critics demanded its complete destruction. Writing
in the context of poststructuralism, Griselda Pollock used
semiotics and the work of Foucault to argue that art history
was a discursive practice, a form of making meaning that was
imbued with the attitudes of those, namely men, who as the
dominant gender had inaugurated and supported it as a
cultural institution. Her conclusion was that feminist scholarship no longer had a place within art history as it had
traditionallybeen defined. Instead of addressing the canonical works around which disciplinary activity had revolved,
she advocated what she called "feminist interventions in the
histories of art."31
Making use of the work of Jacques Derrida, Adrian Rifkin
has drawn out the consequences of poststructuralist theory
for the art-historical canon, in particular the necessity of
recognizing that the work of the historian-the historical
text-is inevitablycolored by the writer'sposition in history
and culture. If art history is regarded as a discursivepractice,
a socially sanctioned form of making cultural meaning, then
it is susceptible to the type of textual analysis known as
deconstruction.32 Derrida has shown that language is involved in a game of absent presence, that it serves to confer
ontological status on what is otherwise only an unstable and
shifting system of signs which draw their meaning not from
their capacity to refer to objects in the world, but rather from
the cultural attitudes with which they are invested by their
users. In such circumstances, the notion of "art" is transformed from being a series of cultural objects distinguished
by their capacity to provoke a universal response to their
artistic merit, to a series of cultural objects that have been
arbitrarily awarded a privileged status by authors whose
interests have been served by doing so.33 The cultural
category "art"and the discursive practice "art history" are
social constructs rather than eternal constants in the history
of civilization.
What conclusions can we draw concerning the function of
authorial subjectivityin the writing of history and the nature
and status of the art-historical canon? First, and most
startling, is the realization that the type of appreciation
expressed for Northern Renaissance art by Wackenroder
and Schlegel is more relevant to our contemporary notions
of historical interpretation than is the work of Panofsky.
Once the concept of tradition has been shown to be historically compromised, laden with the cultural attitudes of a
particular historical moment, as feminist critics have done,
and once every attempt to make textual meaning has been
shown to be less about the world and more about the
projection of authorial bias and prejudice as well as insight
and understanding, then it seems clear that art historians
must address the question of why they believe the works they
discuss are worth talking about. Once there is no longer
anything self-evident about the status of the works that are
the focus of art-historicalattention, it is necessary to argue
for the choice of certain works rather than others. The
subjective attitudes and cultural aspirations of the art historian become just as important an aspect of the narrative as
the works that are its object. This is much the same as saying
that there is no canon beyond that which we ourselves
being in pursuit of knowledge without recognizing how they themselves are
the makers of that knowledge."
Curiously enough, the social history of art inspired by the Marxist criticism of
T. J. Clark has by and large taken the existence of a traditional canon for
granted. Clark has never conceived of the canon as a body of works imbued
with historically contingent social meaning. While his interpretations of
canonical works are clearly politically motivated, he rarely calls attention to
his own intellectual beliefs and social engagement in the process of his
encounter with the past. See, e.g., T. J. Clark, Image of the People: Gustave
Courbetand the 1848 Revolution, Princeton, N.J., 1973; and idem, The Painting
of Modern Life: Paris in the Art ofManet and His Followers, Princeton, N.J., 1984.
For criticism of Clark's failure to address the question of the canon, see A.
Rifkin, "Marx's Clarkism," Art History, vIII, 1985, 488-95.
29. L. Nochlin, "Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?" Artnews,
67-69.
30. Ibid., 69.
31. G. Pollock, "Feminist Interventions in the Histories of Art: An Introduction," in Vision and Diference: Femininity, Feminism, and the Histories of Art,
London, 1988, 1-17.
32. A. Rifkin, "Art's Histories," in The New Art History, ed. A. L. Rees and F.
Borzello, London, 1986, 157-63. See also G. Mermoz, "Rhetoric and
Episteme: Writing about 'Art' in the Wake of Post-Structuralism," Art History,
xII, 1989, 497-509.
33. For a discussion of the way in which works of art are "framed," see J.
Derrida, The Truth in Painting, trans. G. Bennington and I. McLeod, Chicago,
1987.
was Linda Nochlin in her famous piece "Why Have There
Been No Great Women Artists?" of 1971 who placed the
issue of artistic merit squarely in the foreground of the
discipline's attention.29 She showed just how unsatisfactory
the concept of tradition was to a definition of the canonical
status of a work of art, by underscoring the extent to which a
putative masterpiece serves to articulate and support a
hierarchy between the sexes. There was nothing inherently
natural about the selection of great artists and works on
which art history depended because that choice was the
product of social attitudes that were historicallydetermined.
The equation of artistic merit with tradition honored the
cultural achievements of men because social forces prevented women from participating fully in the processes of
artistic production. By means of a striking case study of the
history of the exclusion of women from drawing or painting
from the nude in the art academies that dominated artistic
education until the end of the nineteenth century, Nochlin
suggested that it was social institutions rather than an
inherent lack in the female personality that was responsible
for the underrepresentation of this gender among the
"great"artists of the past:
Hopefully, by stressing the institutional-i.e., the public-rather than the individual,or private, pre-conditions for
achievement or the lack of it in the arts, we have provided
a paradigm for the investigation of other areas in the field.
By examining in some detail a single instance of deprivation or disadvantage-the unavailabilityof nude models
to women art students-we have suggested that it was
indeed institutionally
made impossible for women to achieve
artisticexcellence, or success, on the same footing as men,
no matterwhat the potency of their so-called talent, or
genius.30
LXIX, JAN. 1971, 23-39,
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construct. Instead of history used to buttress the existence of
a traditional canon, instead of the historical imagination
made to serve the status quo-that is, the tastes of those
whose culture we have inherited-a motivated history can be
used to destabilize and call into question the assumptions
and prejudices of that culture by insisting on their contingency and relativity.
What are the pedagogical implications of these conclusions? What would happen, in other words, to the educational function of art history, if these reflections were put into
practice? In its present configuration as a discipline organized around the study of a canon of artists and works
guaranteed by tradition, art history must be considered an
agent in what Pierre Bourdieu has called the process of
"culturalreproduction."The canonical content of our syllabi
serves as a means of transmitting "culturalcapital"from one
generation of the elite to another.34By transmitting knowledge about a set of works whose merit can neither be
questioned nor discussed, art history plays an important
conservativerole in contemporary culture.
How can these conditions be transformed?The elimination of a canon seems to be a utopian dream. To suggest that
art history could continue as a social institution without
making choices between what artists and works should be
taught and what should not presupposes that the discipline
could operate without a cultural agenda. Such deliberate
naivete would simply reproduce the circumstances that
promoted an unquestioning attitude toward the traditional
canon in the first place. If we assume in the wake of
poststructuralismthat there are no disinterested narratives,
that all art-historical accounts are informed by one bias or
another, then it seems wiser to acknowledge that there will
always be some works that are considered to be of greater
artistic merit than others and that the standards involved in
making suchjudgments differ according to the attitudes and
interests of different historicalgroups and individuals.Rather
than assuming that the discipline might ever agree on what
constitutes "quality," let us suppose our students were
introduced to concepts of artistic merit that responded to
different political and culturalbeliefs. In such circumstances,
they might encounter a Marxist canon, a feminist canon, a
gay and lesbian canon, a postcolonial canon, and so forth.
This would make it clear that whatever the discipline's
canonical paradigm happened to be, there was little agreement as to its constitution and shape and that it was always
capable of reconfiguration. Far from assuming that this
plethora of ideals of social value could coexist in egalitarian
conviviality, we can expect a contest of voices to arise in
which a struggle for dominance would result in the hierarchization of contestatory discourses. The value of the existence of such alternatives, as well as of their debate with one
another, is that none could henceforth be regarded as a
"master narrative."Decisions to subscribe to one or another
of their social agendas would be made with a full recognition
of the political and cultural implications of that choice. None
of the alternativeswould be able to mask the contingency of
its assumptions behind the naturalizingmask of tradition.
Some version of this scenario is already playing itself out in
our discipline. Traditionally sanctioned narrativeson which
canonical status depended are being called into question by
narrativesthat no longer share their assumptions. Individual
artists and works of art-even entire periods-are being
reevaluated in such a way that their continued representation in the canon has been placed in doubt, just as canonical
status is now being sought for artists,works, and periods that
have hitherto been unrecognized. Indeed, as David Carrier
has suggested, art historywould appear to be experiencing a
"paradigm shift." Using Thomas Kuhn's notion of the
"paradigm"to refer to forms of art-historicalinterpretation
that are regarded as acceptable by the dominant institutions
in the profession at any particular point in time, Carrier
suggests that our discipline's notion of "truth" is being
transformed and that we are witnessing the development of
new paradigms of what are to count as acceptable forms of
interpretation.35 Kuhn's sociology of knowledge not only
affords us insight into contemporary circumstancesbut also
suggests a way of explaining the fact that, despite the appeal
of some of art history'sleading practitioners to an unchanging and constant notion of tradition, one which would
stabilize and perpetuate a fixed concept of quality,the canon
has alwaysbeen malleable, seemingly engaged in a process of
constant change.
This essay, however, is not a descriptive account of the
transformationscurrently being experienced by art history.
Far from an empirical report, it is an appeal for a broader
recognition of the role played by subjectivityin the articulation of historical interpretations. Rather than legitimating a
preestablished canon of artists and works following the
principle of "objectivity,"historians might pursue their own
agendas and articulate their own motives for engaging in the
process of finding cultural meaning in the art of the past.
Instead of regarding the subject of art history as fixed and
unchanging, scholars have an opportunity to define what
that subject might be. In doing so, they can display rather
than conceal the cultural issues that preoccupy them. The
subject of art history thus becomes manifestly an allegory of
the historical circumstances that have both shaped and
empowered the subjectivityof the author.
This emphasis on the agency of the historian, his or her
capacity to subject the values of the past to intense scrutiny
and rigorous criticism, as well as to articulate the cultural
aspirations of his or her own times, should not be misunderstood. This is not a call for some simpleminded correspondence between interpretation and interpreter, not a sugges-
34. P. Bourdieu and J. C. Passeron, Reproduction in Education, Society, and
Culture, trans. R. Nice, London, 1990. For an indictment of the way in which
art history serves the process of "cultural reproduction," see Carol Duncan,
"Teaching the Rich," in The Aesthetics of Power: Essays in Critical Art History,
New York, 1993, 135-42.
35. D. Carrier, "Erwin Panofksy, Leo Steinberg, David Carrier: The
Problem of Objectivity in Art Historical Interpretation," Journal of Aesthetics
and Art Criticism, XLVII,no. 4, 1989, 333-47. For Kuhn's theory of "paradigms," see T. Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (1962), Chicago,
1970.
36. L. Althusser, "Ideology and the Ideological State Apparatuses," in
Lenin and Philosophy and Other Essays, trans. Ben Brewster, New York, 1971,
126-86.
MOTIVATING
tion that one should reflect the other. The allegories of
subjectivitywe call history must inevitablybe opaque. We can
never be fully conscious of the motives that impel (compel?)
us to give one shape to an interpretation rather than
another. The unconscious must, by definition, remain beyond our capacity to understand. Not only is the historian's
subjectivitypartly determined by unconscious forces, but it is
also governed by the ideological traditions that are characteristic of its situation in history. Following Louis Althusser, we
might define ideology as the social unconscious.36 The
historian belongs sometimes knowingly and sometimes unknowingly to a variety of different ways of conceiving of the
relations between human beings as members of a particular
culture, as well as the way in which that culture relates to
other cultures and to the world, and these structures of
understanding define his or her subjectivityin relation to all
other times and places.
It is only, however, because the cultural codes and conventions that serve to define individual subjectivityalso enable it
HISTORY
401
to participate in social life, it is only because the subject is
both constituted by and constituting of the circumstances in
which he or she exists, that the active role of history in the
creation and transformation of culture can be understood.
The call for a motivated history thus does not assume that the
historian's motives are transparently accessible, but rather,
within the context of psychological and ideological determination, it insists on the author's powers of agency to articulate and promote political agendas that are relevant to the
cultural circumstancesin which he or she is located.
KeithMoxey,authorof Peasants, Warriors,and Wives(Chicago,
1989) and The Practice of Theory (Ithaca, N.Y., 1994), is
co-editorwithMichaelAnn Holly and NormanBrysonof Visual
Theory (New York,1991) and Visual Culture (Hanover,N.H.,
1994). [Departmentof Art History,Barnard College/Columbia
University,New York,N. Y. 10027].